


Maybe It Means Nothing

by DominoSatcher



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Boys Kissing, Caught, Drunk Harry, Drunken Confessions, Drunken Shenanigans, Drunkenness, Exposed, France (Country), Gay, Gay Male Character, Interviews, Light Angst, M/M, Male Friendship, Male Homosexuality, Paparazzi, Radio, Video, caught on tape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-17
Updated: 2013-06-17
Packaged: 2017-12-15 07:09:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/846741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DominoSatcher/pseuds/DominoSatcher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Harry, what the fuck?” Louis shoved Harry's arms off of him, rolling his eyes at the taller boy's repetitions. He ran his fingers through his hair, then turned his gaze up at Harry, anger evident in his eyes. “You're really not minding the agreement very well right now.” </p><p>“I do not care,” Harry said neutrally, propping himself up against the sink, “I do not.” He shook his head and frowned at Louis.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maybe It Means Nothing

**Author's Note:**

> Prompted one-shot. Please enjoy.
> 
> My Tumblr: http://therapyplease.tumblr.com/

  


_Clink, slam!_

Five shot glasses collided over the center of the table then struck the bartop. Each of the boys took their shot which they each followed with winces of varying intensity. Harry wiped his bottom lip as some of the bitter liquid tried to trickled out the corner of his mouth. He shook his head as if to shake the taste from his mouth. He yelled loudly as he tossed his hands in the air, receiving a strong high five from Niall in response. 

The gathering of fans began to clear out some as the boys progressed further into the evening at the small French bar. It was a small dive bar modeled after an American bar despite any actual identifying evidence to suggest a basis on another nationality – it was just a bar. The room had a circular bar in the center of it with shelves around a center island behind the bartenders. It spanned across about a third of the room and was surrounded on both sides by dance areas marked with frosted glass floor tiles which bore colored lights underneath. The colors cycled a variety of cool colors: blue, green, and purple. Along the outer walls of the room, there were standing tables for those who did not wish to participate in the dancing. The members from One Direction had been gravitating around the bar, cycling back of forth between throwing back shots and dancing with the fans who had recognized their favorite band members.

Zayn winked at the female bartender as she slide a napkin across the bar to him. He shoved the note in his pocket and, when the bartender stepped away to help another customer, leaned in to Louis' ear and said, “I've got no idea what the hell this says.” He and Louis laughed the loud, cacophonous laugh trademarked by inebriation. 

“I've gotten the his and some other words and phrases, but just basic stuff,” Louis said as he nodded another order of shots to the bartender, “but I haven't met a single person yet tonight who speaks English! I thought a lot of people here were supposed to know English pretty well, eh?”

“Not tonight,” Harry yelled, holding out his vowels in the way those who are incredibly intoxicated tended to, “Not. Tonight!” He grinned, throwing an arm around Louis shoulder. He started to giggle uncontrollably at a joke no one told and hid his sheepish grin by tucking his face into Louis' hair. He felt a swat against the skin of his shoulder as he pressed a kiss against Louis' head, so he pulled away to find Louis shooting his a wide-eyed look which clearly said 'Don't.' He grabbed a shot for himself from the five the bartender had placed in front of Louis, but, on the toss, was stopped by Louis cupping his hand over the top of the glass. Louis gave him a cross look which clearly implied he thought that Harry had had enough, but Harry blew a raspberry in Louis' face, startling the smaller boy long enough to finish his shot. He slammed the glass down on the table and yipped for a high five from Niall again. Louis wiped at the beads of spit on his face angrily then took his own shot.

“Loooouuuuiiiiis,” Harry slurred, throwing his arms around Louis' shoulders again. He was quickly rejected by Louis ducking under Harry's arms and pulling away from the bar and Harry. Harry followed Louis who was making a beeline straight to the toilet. Once Harry brushed past the door and they were inside the small room, he grabbed onto Louis' shoulders, concern evident on his face. “Are you going to going to throw up?”

“Harry, what the fuck?” Louis shoved Harry's arms off of him, rolling his eyes at the taller boy's repetitions. He ran his fingers through his hair, then turned his gaze up at Harry, anger evident in his eyes. “You're really not minding the agreement very well right now.” 

“I do not care,” Harry said neutrally, propping himself up against the sink, “I do not.” He shook his head and frowned at Louis. Despite having been fairly conspicuous on the X-Factor and during their first tour, their fans still wanted to believe the images that their management had put forth of the boys: five cute, completely straight boys in a band together (but not together like that!). They had tried to hide their relationship for a while, stifling the amount of instances in which they had public displays of affection, but even after limiting themselves, their management still was not satisfied. Their management cited various instances online where people had analyzed their body language, behavior patterns, and all sorts of other things, then posted them online. At first, it had amazed the boys how perceptive some of their fans were because most of those kinds of detail they had not even noticed themselves until it was pointed out. However, the circulation of those kinds of posts had caused a dramatically large portion of their fans to continue to believe that something was going on between Louis and Harry. With every analysis post, the ante was upped by management to “contain the situation.” The two had come to an agreement about their relationship: it was affecting their work, and therefore their dreams, along with the dreams of the other boys in the band. Since hiding was making them miserable, they had resigned mutually that it would be easier to hide if there were nothing to hide. That was how the “great couple” Larry Stylinson had ended. 

“Well, maybe I do care, Harry.” Louis rubbed the bridge of his nose for a moment, staring down at the floor, then met Harry's gaze. The words tasted funny on the way out, but Louis knew Harry was damn well past his limit and, when it came to drunk Harry, Louis knew the other boy needed a stern kick in the ass to pull him back to his senses. He crossed his arms and shifted his weight onto his right foot, staring at Harry until the younger boy elicited a disdainful nod. “Say it, Harry. Out loud.”

“I am not minding the agreement, Louis,” Harry spat out, shifting his weight back to his feet. He walked to the doorway and held the door open, then turned to Louis, “After you.”

Louis waited a moment, examining Harry. Harry had stopped letting himself fall around quite as fluidly as before, which was the typical sign that Harry was letting his inhibitions come back to mind. He patted Harry on the shoulder as he passed, accepting what he considered to be an agreement on Harry's part to reel in his behavior. On a unusual night, this was the point where they would go back to the party, have a little more fun, then call it an early night and head back to the hotel with Harry brooding the whole way. Unbeknownst to Louis, tonight was not that kind of night. 

The two walked across the dance floor, which had significantly thinned out during their bathroom break and rejoined their bandmates at the bar. Niall immediately handed them another round of shots with a wide grin plastered across his face. This action caused Louis to scowl and turn to Harry, but Harry's glass was already empty by the time Louis had turned his head. Harry slammed the glass down onto the bar and, in two quick steps, positioned himself on top of the bar. A few people turned and pointed, but the gesture went generally ignored save for a scowl by the bartenders. 

“What the fuck, Harry?” Louis groaned and held his arms out to the side in anger.

“Feckin' party!” Niall laughed goofily as he slung back his shot, kicked over a barstool, then began to dance with some of the girls who had started to dance near the band on the glass dance floor. 

“I have an announcement to make,” Harry yelled as Louis cupped his face in his hands and groaned again, “I know none of us have met a single person that speaks English tonight, but thaaaaat does not matter! In fact, it makes it a little bit better for what I'm about to say!” Louis' head shot up out of his hands as he made eye contact with Harry. Harry grinned.

“You fucking better not --”

“I love Louis Tomlinson!” Harry cut Louis objections short, then placed his hands on his hips as he stared around the room. His grin widened when there was not a single look of recognition across the small group of fans that was still left. The remainder of the patrons seemed to not even recognize them and few seemed to care. “I do, I fucking love him! I'm in love with Louis!” He turned his head to behind him as a bartender began to swat at his legs with a bar rag, screaming something in French. He hopped off of the bar to the ground and held his hands up at the bartender to gesture an apology. He looked to his left side, then to his right side. He caught sight of Louis just as he was stomping out of the front entrance of the bar.

Outside, Louis opened the door of the rental car they had been given the keys to that evening and sat down in the driver's seat. He pounded his head against the steering wheel, eliciting a short yelp from the car's horn. 'Harry Styles is a fucking idiot,' he thought as his heart raced in his chest. Harry assumed that no one in the bar spoke English, but that does not make that true which made Louis angry. Harry's actions were reckless and stupid.

A small tap on the car window caused Louis to stir from his thoughts. Harry stood outside of the car leaning down near the window. Louis scowled at him and pressed the lock button on the car, locking Harry out. He flipped Harry off through the window. He heard Harry's muffled calls through the window, but refused to unlock the doors. 

“Go away, Harry!” Harry scowled and shook his head at Louis through the glass.

“Let me in or I'll yell again!” Harry raised an eyebrow at Louis through the glass, indicating the he knew that he could win this dispute and Louis just groaned. He reluctantly hit the lock button on the door. Harry quickly rounded the car and climbed into the passenger side of the car next to Louis with a grin plastered on his face. “Hi.”

“Shut up,” Louis sighed, resting his forehead on the steering wheel. He stared forward at the darkened console in front of the wheel. “What the fuck was that, Harry? Seriously, just tell me what part of your stupid, drunk brain told you that screaming at everyone in the bar was a good idea?” 

“The part of me that doesn't like our agreement, so... all of it, the whole brain.” Harry grabbed the pull tab on the side of the seat, causing the back of the seat to fall backward. He leaned back in the chair and stretched, his shirt rising to show a peek of his hips. As he relaxed from the stretch, he rubbed his knuckles against his closed eyes, pushing away the sleepiness that came with drunkenness. Louis clenched his fist and slammed it against the car door. The sudden noise made Harry flinch. “L-lou... calm down.”

“Calm down, he says!” Louis picked his head up and turned his gaze upward, laughing sarcastically, “He screams at everyone in the bar that he loves me, but I'm the one that needs to calm down.” Louis ran his fingers into his hair and gripped his first, his knuckles turning white. 

“If I would have known that was going to get you this worked up, I dunno...” Harry stopped himself from saying he would not have yelled. He definitely knew he still would have yelled. He wanted to get everything off of his chest to someone, even if that someone did not understand what he was saying. He felt liberated, but it seemed, to Harry, that his feelings were at Louis' expense, which he did not like. He reached out to place a hand on Louis' shoulder, but his hand was swatted away again. “Lou --”

“That's how you decided to tell me,” Louis still sounded angry, but his voice was much quieter compared to his previous yelling. He hung his head and sighed, turning to Harry. He recognized confusion in the younger boy's face, which caused him to laugh bitterly. “You're even too drunk to understand why I'm mad, that's great.” 

“Lou, I really don't... just give me a hint or something, please. I really don't –“

“That's not a word that has been spoken yet, Harry. Ever.” Louis' voice was much more stern, making his point snipe much more clearly. Louis was angry because Harry was being fool-hardy with his declarations of love, but he was also taken aback by the word Harry chose. Harry said love. He could have said that he wanted to be with Louis, that he had feelings for him, anything really, but Harry chose to say that he loved Louis and, after that, went on to say he was in love. It was the first time he had heard Harry use those words like that. Sure, they had, in the past, said they loved aspects about each other or had used the word playfully, but there had always seemed to be some sort of unspoken limit of how far they went – just the two of them. 

Harry remained silent, which made Louis shift uncomfortably in his seat. He looked away from Harry and rested his head against the steering wheel again. However, he felt a hand wrap under his chin and lift his head up from the steering wheel. His lips met with Harry's and Louis' objections stopped in his throat as he melted into the gentle touch. The kiss lasted for a long moment before Harry finally broke away and nodded at Louis. “I meant it, Lou.” 

“You taste like booze,” Louis said, turning his gaze away from Harry's which was now incredibly close. Harry remained stoic, so Louis sighed and continued, “and that's not exactly how I wanted to find out, Haz...”

“Oh, come on! That's what everyone wants, innit? Some big romantic gesture they can brag about later... like a movie, but real life.” Harry's lips curled up into a grin as he spoke. He ran his thumb lightly against Louis' cheek, which caused Louis to return his gaze.

“That doesn't make it any less stupid, Harry! You don't know if those people in that bar speak English or not. You could get us in some serious trouble!” Louis furrowed his eyebrows in an angry expression. The anger was directed more towards the situation than to Harry. He did not like the position in which his role in the band placed him. Lying about his relationship is what ended his relationship, but Harry said he loved Louis! Surely, he reasoned, that was worth something. “Plus, our lives are already enough like movies.”

“I don't care. We can get in a hurricane of trouble, a literal shit storm, but I'll think it was all worth it, because you just said the word 'us' again.” Harry's grin had stretched across his face and become so wide that his dimple was cutting a deep jut across his cheek. 

'Okay, that was pretty god damn cute,' Louis thought as he chuckled at Harry, trying to suppress his own grin. Harry's dimple alone was enough to make him fail. It was one of Louis' favorite things about Harry. Harry's dimple was like a physical indication of just how deep his happiness was: the deeper Harry's dimple was in his smile, the deeper his happiness ran at that moment. Harry ran his thumb along Louis' cheek, causing Louis' grin to slip through his attempts at staying neutral.

“That's more like it,” Harry said, chuckling. He leaned forward once more and their lips met. The first kiss was tender, but as they continued, their movements grew quicker and sloppier, as if they needed to hurry themselves to make up for all the time that they had lost in the months that they had been keeping their desires at bay. Louis turned his body to face Harry and was met with the taller boy's strength as Harry pulled him over on top of him in the leaned back passenger seat. Louis quickly adjusted to the movement, pulling his legs behind him and finding a comfortable position to straddle Harry's lap. Harry sat forward to try to help Louis adjust, but was pushed down onto his seat as Louis' lips crashed into his with a bruising kiss. Harry's hands rested on Louis hips as the two continued to exchange rough kisses.

A tap on the glass startled the two, jerking their attention to the side which was met with a few bright flashes. The boys put their hands up in an attempt to cover their eyes from the sudden flare of light. The flares caused their vision to give way, leaving them with only circles of deep color obscuring a majority of their fields of vision. Louis rubbed his eyes for a moment, but then found himself being lifted aside out of the now open door of the vehicle. Harry shoved the older boy out of the car door, causing Louis to hit the concrete outside on his side with a thud. He quickly leapt to his feet and began dashing down the curved road which led to the Parisian bar and called out a “Sorry!” to Louis as he curved out of sight. 

Louis forced himself to his feet and carried himself out of the road, rubbing his eyes. His heart was racing, causing his pulse to pick up. Louis tried to calm himself down as his blood pulsed coarsely through his body. He had a good idea about what the source of the flash was and the consequences of if he were right began to flood his thoughts, crashing over him like a tidal wave of unpleasant realization. He leaned against the hood of their car for a moment, rubbing the lids of his eyes. As the last ounce of purple faded, he saw Harry walking back from around the curve. Louis pushed himself off of the car and hurriedly met Harry a few meters down the road. 

“Please... please,” Louis said, “tell me that's not exactly what I think that was.” Louis examined Harry's face as it twisted into a tight wince and confirmed his horrifying suspicions. Louis sat down on the concrete. He felt like he was about to pass out.

“I chased him down the road and onto a side road from the corner, but I couldn't see as well because of the flash...” Harry massaged the back of his neck with one of his hands and took a glance down the road he had just come from. He turned back and knelt next to Louis on the ground, placing his hand on the boy's shoulder. Louis met the contact with a very wide swing against Harry, swatting his arm away. Harry recoiled as the other boy pushed himself to his feet and began to stomp away in the other direction. Harry called out to him, but the older boy only picked up his pace. Harry ran after him, trying to grab onto Louis' shoulders to stop him, but was only met with further resistance.

“Just fucking stop,” Louis yelled, spinning to face Harry. Louis' face was a deep crimson red and his expression was a mixture of anger and fear. Louis shoved at Harry, pushing the older boy away from him, but not hard enough for Harry to consider it violent. “This is all your fucking fault, Harry! Fuck, this is all your fault. You screamed in that bar and then we both disappeared and what if that person was inside the bar and they heard you and that's why this is happening?!” Louis placed his hands on his temples and stared up into the sky as he bid back the tears which were on the verge of spilling over from his eyes.

Harry stood, struck with the realization that Louis could easily be right and Harry could have been the reason that the photographer was able to ready themselves for an opportunity should it arise. He immediately felt guilt surging through him. He immediately wanted to fix the situation that he had caused, but he knew that he could not. He felt helpless and stupid. He apologized under his breath to Louis, over and over again, his own body beginning to wrack with anxiety. He had broken their agreement, but Harry judged that Louis seemed to want the agreement broken based on their actions in the car, but this thought did nothing to quell his guilt.

“What are we going to do,” Louis asked, interrupting Harry's string of apologies, “We need to come up with some kind of plan of action, because those photos are probably going to be all over the internet by tomorrow. They probably won't end up on any news sources since we're in France, thank God, but that doesn't stop anyone from uploading them online. Not everyone will know about it immediately, but something like that will probably end up spreading pretty quickly, especially considering the way some of the fans behave.” Louis paced as he spoke, helping him calm down as he tried to create a plan of action, a next step. His anger for Harry had subsided through all of the taller boys apologies. Harry had a tendency of looking so incredibly broken when he was upset that it was impossible for Louis to stay mad at him which rang true even now. 

“I really am sorry, Lou,” Harry said, hanging his head in shame.

“I know you are, Haz,” Louis sighed, continuing to pace, “but we really need to think right now. We have to come up with some kind of explanation. Though, I guess that's hard to do if we haven't even seen the photos yet. We may not even have to come up with a plan to explain things. Maybe we'll get lucky and you won't be able to see anything in the photos. I mean, they'll have to be a little blurry since he was outside of the car and the flash was on. That would definitely cause a glare from the reflection of the light.” Louis continued to ponder different ideas about the angles of the image and what would or would not been seen while Harry stood nearby hanging his head with a contrite expression plastered on his face. The adrenaline from the chase was beginning to wear off and the effects of the alcohol began to curl their way around his thought process. Louis stopped pacing as he noticed Harry begin to wobble a little back and forth. Louis reached out to grab Harry's arm as the taller boy tumbled down to the concrete.

Harry woke up the next morning sprawled awkwardly across the bed in his and Louis' shared hotel room. His head pounded from the night before and it took him a few minutes to steady himself, balance himself to stop his head's spinning, and try to piece together how he got from the concrete outside of the bar all the way back to the hotel room. He rubbed the backs of his hands against his eyelids with a groan. He looked at the alarm clock on the bedside table in the hotel which read 10:45 am. Next to the alarm clock was a note from Louis with two small pills and a glass of water resting nearby. He picked up the note and read it to himself. You'll probably need this in the morning x. Harry smirked as he read the note, appreciating the gesture. He grabbed the pills and tossed them onto his tongue, washing them down with a gulp of water. 

He pushed himself off of the mattress with a groan from himself and the mattress and made his way to the bathroom to brush his teeth in an attempt to remove the taste of the morning from his mouth. Looking into the mirror, Harry realized the night had clearly been tougher on him than he had realized waking up. His curls were sloppily matted against his forehead and crushed on one side of his head from the weight of sleeping mostly on one side. He decided to take a quick shower to wash the remaining traces of the previous night. 

Harry climbed into the shower, turning the faucet well into the territory of the red sticker which indicated hot water. He let the scalding water wash away the remnants of his hangover. With washing away the fogginess of a hangover came clarity for Harry as he began to remember bits and pieces of the night before. When he paused his mental groans and complaints, focusing on remembering the night, the night's entirety flooded his mind. Suddenly, Harry's shower seemed a lot less enjoyable. He turned the knob off after just rinsing, not washing, and hurried back into the hotel room, tossing on a pair of grey sweatpants and a white shirt with a deep v-neck while searching the room for his mobile. Once Harry found his phone, which was confusingly lodged under his bedsheets near the foot of the bed, he scanned his phonebook until he found Louis' number and pressed dial.

“Aye, Hazza,” Louis answered, his voice neutral, “Bout time you woke up.” 

“I just remembered what all happened last night,” Harry started, pausing when he heard an annoyed hum from Louis, “Well, I mean, I remembered everything that happened with us, but I mean the photo stuff.” 

“Well, the photos aren't good, but you can't see anything,” Louis said with a sigh, “Since the putz tapped on the glass to get our faces, it just looks like we're crammed up on the seat of the car in a bad position. There aren't any photos of anything else. They were leaked online last night not too long after it all happened, but I was too busy loading you into the car.” 

“I don't usually black out from drinking,” Harry said, rubbing his hand across his forehead. He noticed the subtle tightness in his head was becoming less and less subtle the more they discussed alcohol.

“Either way, we're meeting downstairs in a few minutes to do that radio interview, so you'll need to get down here soon. I'm sure those photos will come up in the interview, so that should be a great way to start the day.”

Harry frowned as he agreed to Louis statements. He realized that it was inconvenient that all of this was happening, but Louis seemed to be acting like the whole situation were more trouble than it were worth, than what Harry was worth. He disconnected the line and finished getting dressed, looking himself once over in the mirror. He spent the most time examining the disappointed expression on his face.

Harry met the other boys downstairs who had already been reigned in by their management. When Harry approached, he felt the icy stares from those involved. Harry and Louis spent a large amount of the trip to the radio station being reprimanded heavily by Christina for “slipping up.” Management had picked her up at the beginning of the European segment of the tour and she turned out to be a complete nightmare. Despite her colorfully fun, red-rimmed glasses, her personality was sharp and generally unpleasant. She was the kind of rigid woman who always had her wavy, blonde hair in a tight bun and wore pantsuits all the time.

As she had done in several countries before France, she continued to verbally thrash the boys in front of the rest of the management team while lobbing complaint about their reckless behavior and overall irresponsibility. The complaints frustrated both of the boys, but Harry was more uneasy than disappointed. He understood the need to lie about the situation since their contract would fall into jeopardy should the truth be revealed and sales be impacted negatively. Harry ignored most of the complaints since Louis would be the one doing the majority of the lying and tried to take his mind off of the nagging feeling of another deceitful interview.

Most of the interview focused on the usual aspects of a touring musical group: how they were feeling about it, how they enjoyed it, etc. Near the end of the interview, the station began to take questions from Twitter. This, Harry realized, typically served as a front for radio stations to try to ask whatever questions they wanted to ask under the guise of someone form the fan base tweeting the station that question. Harry spent most of the interview in silence. Between the pounding headache and knowing that something is going to happen well before it actually has, Harry wasn't in a mood to answer trivial questions.

“Of course, the question on everyone's mind...” Harry braced himself, as the interviewer lead into “the” question, “is about the photos that have been circulating around online all day. From what can be seen in the photo, it looks like – and if I'm being completely honest – it looks like Louis is straddling Harry!”

“Oh, that,” Louis said, huffing into the microphone so the wind would pick up on the air, “Why don't you tell them about what happened Harry?” Louis turned to Harry and raised an eyebrow. 

“W-what?” Harry looked at the other boys and back at Louis, his jaw slack. Harry sat speechless.

“If you've been wondering why he's been so quiet for the majority of the interview,” Louis continued, leaning forward towards the microphone and interrupting the silence, “it's because he and I got into kind of a heated argument last night. Now, it's nothing serious, but when you've had a couple of drinks with your mates, it tends to make smaller things seem much, much bigger than they actually are. We had a bit of a tussle in the car because of something silly that I honestly can't even remember. Though, I guess he must remember since he's being so quiet, eh? Either that or he's just too hungover to speak much. Either way, it really means nothing. Sorry to disappoint.” Louis smirked playfully at the interviewer and returned to resting his back against his seat.

“Well, then what about the video?” The interviewer raised an eyebrow, curious.

“What... video?” A brief moment of panic flashed across Louis face, but was quickly replaced by a stoic expression. Panic appeared and remained on Harry's face. 

The interviewer typed on his laptop for a moment and then turned the laptop towards the two boys. As Harry watched the video titled “Larry Stylinson Kiss,” he could hear Christina whispering something into their phone as they exited the room. Harry felt his stomach began to churn as he watched the video. It was dark, but the video streamed from them exiting the club and getting into the car. Every step from leaving the bar was filmed and uploaded online. Harry felt a twinge of relief for a moment, realizing that it wasn't his declaration of love inside the bar that caused them to be papped since the footage began outside before they even exited, but his relief was quickly washed away by the building panic.

“Well...” Louis remained silent as he searched for a way to spin the video playing in front of him. Louis turned to Harry and Harry felt his panic begin to subside as he recognized the look on Louis' face. The look was helplessness. For the first time in a long time, Louis did not know what to do and he turned to Harry for help. Harry leaned forward near the microphone and smirked as the words fell out of his mouth, “So, maybe it means nothing, but maybe it meant something. I know it meant something to me, at least. After all, who wouldn't want to snog Louis Tomlinson of One Direction?”

A wide smirk slowly spread across the faces of the interviewers, but also across the face of the helpless boy beside of Harry. Louis turned his head back to the microphone, following Harry's brilliantly honest lead. “And who could resist Harry Styles?”

“Maybe it meant something, Harry? Please explain!” The interviewers were perched on the edge of their seats with eager looks. It was clear that they thought they were getting 'the' interview.

“Well, just look at him, first of all,” Harry said, his voice awash with fondness, “he's absolutely gorgeous. Then, if you get to know him, he's that way on the inside, too. He's an amazing person and my best mate. Louis Tomlinson doesn't just 'mean nothing.' That would be way too insulting and I'm sure a lot of our fans would agree.” Harry glanced at Louis who rolled his lips and turned his head in an attempt to hide the redness that had begun creeping up his neck and into his cheeks.

“Aw, for those of you who can't see, Louis is blushing right now,” the interviewer chuckled, “Well, unfortunately, we've gone way past our segment and our sponsors in the booth are giving us some pretty hostile signals to shut up, so any last words to add, One Direction?”

Louis leaned forward and grinned as he simply finished, “Thanks.”

Upon exiting the interview booth, the boys looked around for Christina, but couldn't find her. The five of the exited the booth area, through an office area, and into the stairwell which connected to the back exit of the building. Harry turned as the other three boys continued down the stairs and was met with a soft kiss from Louis. He leaned into the kiss by reflex, smirking as the older boy pulled away. “What was that?”

“Maybe it means something, huh?” Louis grinned and strut his foot against the polished cement of the stairwell. “That was really nice. What you said, I mean.”

“Well, I didn't really like it when you said it meant nothing, because it didn't.” Harry cupped his hand around the side of Louis' face and ran his thumb down the other boy's face. “You've never meant nothing to me.”

“You're going to get us in it deep with Christina. Remember when she let us have it when she found out about that spin the bottle comment from a ways back? She wasn't even around for that, but still griped about it. Wait...” Louis furrowed his brow, peeking over the railing of the stairs to the steps below. They still had not found Christina which was unusual since she seemed to never miss an opportunity to really let into the boys when they made a mistake. “I wonder where she even is. She's going to be pissed that they didn't know about that video ahead of time. I wonder who even uploaded that. I mean, I didn't find it when I was searching online and let me tell you – it's a big deal.” 

“Well, we could try looking it up. I mean, I saw the title.” Harry pulled out his phone and opened the web browser, directing it to YouTube. He searched for the title of the video that he had seen and, other than a few fan videos and edits, found nothing similar to the video that they had just seen. They looked on some other websites, including Tumblr, since that segment of the fan base seemed to enjoy doing research the most, but again came up empty-handed.

The boys continued to probe into the issue of the mystery video as they descended the stairs and exited the rear of the building into the staff car park. They made their way to the vehicle they had been driven in slowly, prolonging the time they had in blissful silence before the scolding started. As they crossed the lot, a woman on a scooter zipped out of a parking spot past the boys. She wore a plain black tank top and a pair of plain, high-cut white shorts. She zoomed past with such speed that her long blonde hair danced behind her in the wind. As she passed, Harry looked up, noticing the distinct red-rimmed glasses as the woman gave them a thumbs up. In a moment, she rounded the corner and disappeared from sight.

“Did you see...” Harry turned to Louis who mirrored Harry's look of astonishment.

“You don't think that –?” 

“Come on, lovebirds, you're taking forever!” Niall had propped open the door of the car and was ushering the other two boys towards the vehicle. They made their way to the car and climbed into the spacious cabin of the car. Once inside, the car began to pull out of the car park.

“What about Christina,” Harry asked, glancing at Louis.

“Apparently she had something else to take care of,” Liam said, shrugging, “She told us she would meet up with us back at the hotel.” 

As the five of them rode back to the hotel, Harry felt a hand slide on top of his. He smiled when Louis squeezed Harry's hand a bit and let his own hand rest there. Harry pulled out his phone with his free hand and opened his messages inbox. He had one unread message from a number he hadn't saved in his phone. He read the message and smiled. He typed back: _I think we're going to be okay._

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please let me know what you think and check out some of my other stories if you'd like. <3


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